


sometimes when i close my eyes i pretend i'm alright (but it's never enough)

by realmsoffreedom



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Depression, F/M, Happy Ending, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, it's mainly about harry and louis, the elounor is pretty minor, triggering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 00:43:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3549749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realmsoffreedom/pseuds/realmsoffreedom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry leaves, and Louis falls apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sometimes when i close my eyes i pretend i'm alright (but it's never enough)

**Author's Note:**

> hey, so I've been working on this for a long time, since the end of January to be specific, and it's finally done. it's long, and I didn't intend for it to be this long, but eh. It's really triggering so please be careful, whatever's been tagged is mentioned quite graphically so proceed with caution.
> 
> title's from echo by jason walker. enjoy.

Louis is confused.

He didn’t think that telling Harry to keep his distance in public, would translate to him keeping his distance _everywhere_. Harry hasn’t had a proper conversation with him in weeks, and Louis knows that’s his fault, but he can’t help but hate Harry. He hates him for not making sure he’s okay. Louis isn’t okay, and Harry should’ve been checking on him- Harry should’ve been there, because he’s Louis’ best friend. Eleanor is his girlfriend and she’s great and all, but she’s _not_ Harry, and she will _never_ be Harry. 

As of right now, Harry hasn’t said two words to him in almost two days. To a normal person, that might seem usual, nothing unordinary, but Louis is anything _but_ normal. Harry is the only reason he smiles anymore, his only source of laughter, his _medicine_ , in all of the terror, and Harry seems to be ignoring him. And Louis isn’t fucking sure what he fucked up this time, but he definitely did something wrong. 

Louis doesn’t do much anymore, other than think. His mind seems to want him to contemplate everything that is wrong in his life, until he’s left more depressed than he started.

His mind only seems to give him a break when it registers that Niall is shouting at him, trying to get his attention.

“Oi, Lou! Order, we’re holding up the line!” 

With a quick glance around, Louis realizes that they’ve pulled up to the drive-thru window at Nandos, and everyone is looking at him, waiting for him to place his order. Flustered, Louis clears his throat a bit.

“Just give me whatever Niall’s having.”

The employee nods, giving him a distasteful look, as Paul accelerates the car forward. He slumps back against the window, letting his head rest on the glass. 

“You alright, Lou?” Zayn’s looking at him in concern, the sketchpad and pencil in his hand forgotten. 

Louis hates letting people know how he feels. Like, he _despises_ having anyone worry about him. It’s not like he deserves worry, he definitely isn’t someone to lose sleep over. That’s why his emotions are kept locked away- a trace of them will have the other 4/5 of the band coddling him, and goddammit, he doesn’t need that. 

“Just tired,” Louis replies, doing his best to sound as convincing as possible. “Haven’t been sleeping well. I’ll go to bed early tonight, and be fine tomorrow. S’nothing.”

It’s always nothing. His feelings are never important. 

…

It seems like he can concentrate on nothing else, except for how Harry is apparently ignoring him, and what the hell he’s done to deserve it. He hates that Harry can take up so much of his time and so much of his life, when he probably barely matters to the curly-haired lad. 

He just wants to know why Harry seems to hate him so much, and then maybe he could do something to fix it. It’s not comforting- knowing that one of the members in his band wants nothing to do with him, and he doesn’t even know why. An assumption would be that he fucked up, but that doesn’t differ from the norm.

He picks up his phone and unlocks it, going into his Twitter app. The amount of notifications and DMs is staggering- there are _so_ many people, and he tries to follow as many as he can, he really tries, but they have _so many_ fans, and there simply isn’t enough time to follow all of them. He can barely see some fans’ tweets- they’re always buried under spam and whatnot. 

He follows a couple fans half-heartedly, at least he can do _something_ right, like make those two girls the happiest they’ve been, now that their idol has finally noticed them. He sighs to himself, before searching his name, and adding ‘shit’ after it. There’s one thing he’s picked up from Harry- he knows Harry used to do this all the time, after a bad show, or just when he was feeling shitty about himself and wanting to reassure himself that he was horrible. Louis knows he shouldn’t be echoing Harry, he remembers how pained he was when he found out what Harry was doing, but he can’t help it. He hates himself, and just wants more reasons to.

The page that loads is one full of tweets about their most recent performance, and the amount of hurtful words on the small screen is enough to make him numb. The claims that he’s gay and has been lying to the fans the entire time are staggering. It frustrates him- knowing that so many people seem to think he’s something he isn’t. 

Louis is not gay. He knows that for a damn fact.

He doesn’t know why people are so insistent on making him into something he’s _not_ , but it’s really starting to get fucking irritating. Especially because that’s the main reason Harry isn’t talking to him anymore.

Accusing Louis of being gay is also insinuating he’s gay for _Harry_ , meaning _Harry_ is gay, and the more interactions they have, the more rumors pile up. 

So damn the fucking media and the fans for tearing Harry away from him.

…

“Ey Lou, there’s some time before the show starts, wanna play footie?”

Niall bounces the football on his knees multiple times, as he waits for a response. When Louis fails to do so, he catches the ball quickly, holding it against his side. Regarding Louis carefully, Niall reaches out and shakes his shoulder roughly. 

“Ow! Jeez mate, m’standing right here!” Louis mutters in protest, jerking back and glaring him. “What the hell do you want?”

“You alright, mate?” Niall asks. “Been looking a bit spacey and out of it lately, is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” Louis replies. “I’m fine.”

“You sure about that?”

“¬ _Yes_ , Niall,” Louis stresses. “M’perfectly fine.”

…

The first time Louis cuts himself, he doesn’t understand why everyone thinks cutting is so _horrible_.

He drags the blade across his wrist, splitting the baby-soft, tan skin perfectly. He’s scared – this is the first time he’s done something like this – so he doesn’t go very deep, not deep at all, but he bleeds and he hurts and that is enough for him. 

He knows what being high feels like – he’s smoked weed before – but this just feels like pure ecstasy. Watching the red drip out and splatter onto the bathroom floor is mesmerizing, and he finds that he feels _alive_. He feels alive for the first time in _weeks_. He used to get this kind of high on stage, but now he just feels dead. 

He feels so empty, like he’s one of the walking dead. He has no desire to live anymore, and that _scares_ him. It terrifies him and chills him to the bone, because he’s not _supposed_ to be like this. He’s supposed to be _happy_. He’s supposed to love life, because he’s living his dream and he honestly couldn’t ask for anything more. 

He’s not supposed to hate himself this much – this honestly doesn’t seem normal. He’s not supposed to hate every inch of his body, every word that makes its way out of his lips, every thought he can even process. He’s not supposed to hate every single fucking thing about himself – and he doesn’t know how or why he does.

Everything is going wrong, and he’s just confused. Harry hasn’t showed any sign of wanting to talk to him, and he’s just scared. Everything is happening so fast, and goddamn, Louis _needs_ Harry, he _needs_ his best mate. Navigating through the life they’ve been thrown into – the life of fame and constant attention and no privacy – that’s difficult. It’s even harder when his best friend seems to want nothing to do with him, and Louis has no fucking clue why.

He must’ve screwed something up – Harry wouldn’t just ignore him for no damn reason. It’s not _ignoring_ completely, he does talk to him when he has to, but Louis can tell that Harry would rather be talking to Liam or Niall. Somehow, Harry, Liam, and Niall have gotten close, and he’s migrated to Zayn. 

Zayn is very different from Harry. The lad is quiet by nature – reserved and preferring to keep to himself. He doesn’t constantly question Louis and interrogate him like he’s killed someone – he doesn’t press Louis. Harry seemed to be the polar opposite, when they were still friends. He would hover constantly, wanting to make sure Louis was okay – and as annoying as it was, Louis _liked_ it. He liked having someone worry about him. He liked having someone to notice when he was having a bad day and hold him through it, making everything better – at least temporarily. 

Zayn’s great at listening – but he won’t come up to Louis and initiate it, he’ll wait for Louis to come to him. While Louis likes the bit of freedom and independence, the hole in his chest is only growing bigger – an empty gap Harry once filled. 

…

“Are you really going onstage in a sweatshirt?”

Liam’s looking at him suspiciously, and Louis is trying to keep calm. If he looks panicked, Liam will _definitely_ know that there is something wrong. 

“It’s fucking freezing, mate.” Louis crosses his arms over his chest, bringing the bandaged one closer to him. 

“Yeah, but we’re going to be running around and jumping and acting crazy for the next three hours. You’ll roast in that thing,” Liam reasons. 

“Come off it Li, he’ll take it off if he wants to.” Zayn jumps to his defense quickly, and Louis can’t be more grateful. 

Liam sighs in exasperation, surrendering. “Fine. We’re on in half an hour. I’m gonna go see what Niall and Harry are up to.”

Once he’s gone, Zayn turns to Louis, eyeing the sweatshirt cautiously. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right Lou?”

Louis nods, curling further into himself. “I would, if I had something to tell you…there’s nothing you don’t know, Zayn. Promise.”

Zayn gets the hint and doesn’t pry. “Alright, Lou. Let me know if you want to talk. I’m here, yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll…I’ll do that…” 

…

Louis has no idea when he turned into such a _liar_. 

The past few days have been full of constant reiterations of “I’m fine” and “I’m just tired, nothing’s wrong”. 

One third of that is true – he _is_ tired, but not tired in the way the boys think. He’s exhausted, tired of living, tired of breathing, tired of _existing_. 

He’s tired of pretending all of this is okay. He’s tired of pretending that every cruel tweet he reads, every time Harry ignores him, every time he gets criticized by management, he’s tired of pretending none of it hurts. He’s a grown man, he’s 23 years old, and he should be able to not let such minor things bother him. 

He’s always been sensitive. Growing up with four sisters turned him into a soft, sensitive lad, and Louis isn’t ashamed of that. He feels his emotions, and he feels so hard. When someone breaks his heart, the ache in his chest doesn’t go away – it’s physical, like his heart is physically cracking, on the edge of shattering like broken glass. 

Enter the blade.

Now, Louis doesn’t have to let it show – how hurt he is, how broken he is, none of it. He can hold it all in until he’s alone, and release everything on his skin. He’s developed such an addiction to it – it’s scary, almost. He wishes he didn’t rely on it – he wishes he didn’t have to slit his own skin to feel okay again, but he can’t change. 

All he can do is hurt and break and cry in silence, screaming, hoping that someone will hear the screams and save him.

…

“Sweatshirt off.”

Louis blanches, staring their stylist with wide eyes. “I can’t. I’m cold.”

“The area you guys are being interviewed in is very warm.” She heaves a loud sigh, obviously not in the mood to deal with this. “There’s no reason to wear that – it makes you look like you’ve just rolled out of bed. Take it off.”

“No.” Louis stands his ground, crossing his arms over his chest. “I want to keep it.”

“Is there a problem?” Zayn ambles over, looking from Louis’ angry eyes to the stylist’s exasperated ones. 

“I’m telling him that he needs to take the sweatshirt off for the interview, but he refuses to listen.” The stylist recounts the story bitterly, glaring at Louis, and Louis shrinks in his seat, curling into himself. 

Zayn nods. He glances over at the wardrobe, thinking for a moment. Louis watches, as he reaches in and pulls out a grey blazer. “How about this, Lou? It looks a lot more professional, and it’ll keep you warm.”

“That will work.” Their stylist nods approvingly, and then all eyes are on Louis.

“That’s good,” Louis replies, snatching the item from Zayn. “I’m going to go change.”

“You can change right here…” Zayn reminds him. “You have a shirt on underneath that, anyway…”

The panic is back, and Louis is trying so hard to keep from shaking. _They can’t know. They **cannot** know._

“I have to piss anyway, I’ll just run to the loo and change there,” Louis spits out. The excuse isn’t one of his best, but it gets him out of there, and it buys him a few minutes to slash at his wrist for disappointing people. 

…

“So, Harry, we’ve noticed recently on stage, that you and Louis don’t really interact very much anymore. Is something going on between the pair of you? Have you had a falling out of some sort?”

The question shocks Louis – it’s enough to get him sitting stiffly, his stomach twisting and turning uncomfortably, while he wonders how Harry is going to answer that. It’s especially nerve-wracking, as the boy in question is sitting right next to him. 

“There’s nothing going on,” Harry responds easily. “We’re fine, I don’t think either of us has really noticed that happening. We haven’t fought, there isn’t anything going on. Isn’t that right, Lou?” He slings an arm around Louis’ shoulders, and Louis tenses.

This is the first time Harry’s spoken to him directly, in _weeks._ All eyes are on him, waiting for a response, and he knows that the longer he keeps silent, the less likely the fans are to believe Harry. That’ll make Harry angry, and _god_ , Louis doesn’t want Harry to be even more mad at him.

“Right,” he chokes out, leaning into Harry’s arm to emphasize his point. 

…

“That was awful, Louis! You know how to act on camera, you’ve done it before! You looked like someone had a gun to your head and was forcing you to agree! The fans are never going to go for that!”

Louis shrinks back as Harry yells, wrapping his arms around himself and ducking his head. “I’m s-sorry, Harry…”

“That’s not good enough,” Harry growls. “Now management has to do more damage control, and the media is gonna be all over a “Larry Stylinson fight”.”

“Leave him alone, H,” Zayn says lowly, holding out a hand to keep the curly-haired boy back. “He’s not having a good day.”

“That doesn’t excuse what he did.” Harry rolls his eyes. “ _I’m_ the one who’s going to go out and get something to eat, and be _mobbed_ by paps asking if he and I are “done for good”.”

Louis is clenching his teeth, trying so hard to keep from shattering. His wrist is itching, and he knows Zayn can feel him trembling. This is too much, he can’t do this. 

“That’s _enough_ , Harry!” Zayn exclaims. “Leave Louis alone. He’s having a hard time as it is, he doesn’t need your stubborn ass terrorizing him.”

Harry scoffs, giving Louis one last withering look, before he turns and walks out.

…

Louis is running out of space on his arms. 

He’s moved onto his hips and his thighs, slicing relentlessly, somewhat disgusted with what he sees. 

His thighs are _huge_ , and he didn’t notice until he started taking a blade to them. They’re huge, and they jiggle when he walks and they’re close to rubbing against each other and it is _disgusting_. It’s so disgusting and Louis hates it. 

His stomach is awful too – the comments about the ‘Tommo Tummy’ didn’t bother him before, but reading them again, and realizing that they’re _true,_ that his tummy _is_ huge…it’s just making him hate himself that much more. 

It’s not fair. The rest of the band – all of them – they have nice bodies, they don’t have slabs of _fat_ hanging from their stomachs. Zayn’s figure resembles that of a pencil or a green bean – he has such a fast metabolism, he could eat anything and be alright. Louis eats a granola bar, and sees it on the scale the next day. Liam is built heavier, but he’s muscled, so he doesn’t have fat hanging in places. He works out a lot, he’s really toned and muscular. Niall – with how much he eats, you’d expect him to be huge. He’s got a fast metabolism as well, he’s really skinny, and damn, his ass looks good in jeans. And finally, Harry. Harry is built beautiful, not fat, not too thin, just perfect. He doesn’t need to watch what he eats – he looks beautiful. That’s probably why so many girls are in love with him.

Maybe starving will hurt. Purposefully harming yourself, that’s what self-harm is, isn’t it? So starving on purpose _must _count as self-harm. It’s another way for Louis to have some kind of control – for him to be able to control _something_. Having no control, watching his life change rapidly around him, that’s been what he’s had to endure for years.__

__He can control this._ _

__He can control how much he bleeds, and whether he eats or not. He can control what he does to his skin, and he can control the _fat_ on his body._ _

__He can control it. And he will._ _

__…_ _

__“Lou? Babe, you okay?”_ _

__Eleanor’s visiting – and usually, this would elate Louis, but he’s just empty. Empty to the point that his girlfriend can’t even do anything about it._ _

__“Fine, sorry,” Louis replies. He brings her closer on an instinct, and drops a kiss to her head._ _

__“What’s wrong?” Eleanor asks, tilting her head. “There’s obviously something you haven’t told me.”_ _

__Louis sighs. He can’t tell her the truth, obviously. Then again…he doesn’t want to lie to her. She’s been nothing but sweet to him, she doesn’t deserve to be lied to. “Erm…Harry and I had a bit of a falling out, s’nothing serious, but I kinda miss him.”_ _

__“Aw, Lou…I’m sure you two will sort things out soon – you always do.”_ _

__“Yeah,” Louis replies emotionlessly. He doubts they’ll sort it out at _all_ , but falsely agreeing with his girlfriend is better than arguing with her and having her try to reason with him. She doesn’t deserve to have to deal with his shit. He would much rather keep the broken, damaged part of him hidden – he doesn’t think he could deal with her leaving him, which she probably will, if she were to find out. _ _

__Louis likes having another side to him, like a hidden persona. The hidden side may be broken, damaged, and falling apart at the seams, but he’s done one thing right. He’s managed to keep himself hidden – he’s managed to hide it all, and sure, Liam and Zayn are suspicious, but Niall and Harry have barely noticed. 2/4 isn’t that bad._ _

__He can do this._ _

__Convincing Liam and Zayn shouldn’t prove to be that hard._ _

__…_ _

__If he thought Harry was avoiding him before, it’s ten times worse now._ _

__The curly-haired lad makes every effort to get out a conversation with him, and every time he does, Louis feels tears prick in his eyes, and he reaches for the blade hidden in his sweatshirt pocket, rubbing his fingers over the sharp edge._ _

__He doesn’t even care anymore._ _

__Everything’s broken and it _hurts_ and Harry doesn’t _care._ He doesn’t care that Louis is starving and cutting and purging and _praying_ he doesn’t wake up tomorrow. He doesn’t care that Louis is so suicidal he’d have no qualms about jumping off a ten-story building. _ _

__This must be what depression feels like. Drowning on dry land._ _

__He just wants Harry to _care_. He wants Harry to realize how badly he’s been hurting him. He wants his best friend back._ _

__Sure, he has Zayn and Niall and Liam, but they don’t compare to Harry. Harry is different. He was the first person to ever understand him, to ever be there for him…Harry was always his best mate. The person he could trust with anything. The person he would risk his life for in a matter of seconds._ _

__It’s like Harry is a stranger now._ _

__He’s just a bandmate._ _

__He’s not a friend, not anymore._ _

__And Louis has no idea what he did to make Harry leave._ _

__He’s just gone and Louis has to deal with it the only way he knows how._ _

__The scars and cuts are ugly – Louis won’t deny that. They’re not pretty looking, they’re grotesque lines, criss-crossing over his skin to form sick looking patterns. To him, they’re an art form, but to the world, they’re gross, disgusting, and inhumane. Because what human being in their right mind purposefully harms themselves?_ _

__…_ _

__“M’gonna go have a smoke. Wanna come, Lou?”_ _

__Louis glances up at Zayn, and then back to where Liam, Harry, and Niall are sprawled on various couches and chairs. “Yeah, I’ll come.”_ _

__Just as he’s about to get up, Liam interjects. “Z, I thought you were trying to quit.”_ _

__Zayn stops, whirling around so he can face Liam. Louis notices the anger evident in his eyes and cringes, backing away from the shorter lad._ _

__“I haven’t smoked in a week. I _am _trying to quit, Liam, but I need one before I go mental. One a week is better than one a day, no?”___ _

____“You shouldn’t be smoking at all,” Liam replies matter-of-factly, gazing back at him. “It’s horrid for your lungs.”_ _ _ _

____“You think I don’t know that?” Zayn’s voice grows higher with anger. “I am _trying_ , Liam, but quitting cold turkey is _hard_. I need this. And I don’t give a fuck what you say, whether you like it or not. It’s just one cigarette.”_ _ _ _

____“Leave him alone.” Harry doesn’t look up from his phone as he speaks. “If he wants to get lung cancer, it’s his problem.”_ _ _ _

____The next moment happens so fast, Louis can barely process it. Zayn has Harry pressed to the wall, a hand coming up to pin him by his neck. Harry’s struggling, spitting, but Zayn has no intention of letting him up. “Say that to my face, you _bastard,_ ” Zayn growls. “At least I’m not the one fucking girls right and left, when I need an escape.”_ _ _ _

____“Hey, stop!” Niall says loudly. “Everyone, stop!” He waits for all the noise in the room to go, before speaking again. “Zayn, let Harry go, and then go ahead and go for a smoke. Harry, I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you, but you better _fix_ it, because you’re acting like a dick. Liam, lay off on Zayn, he’s trying his best. And Louis,” Niall glances at Louis with serious eyes. “Go with Zayn, and try and calm down. You look like you’re gonna collapse, mate.”_ _ _ _

____Zayn reluctantly releases Harry, turning on his heel and stalking outside. Louis swallows hard, and follows, slamming the patio door shut behind him._ _ _ _

____Zayn lights his cigarette angrily, leaning on the balcony railing and staring off at the ground below. “Who does that dick think he is? He _knows_ I’ve been trying my best to quit.”_ _ _ _

____“He’s an ass,” Louis says quietly. “Don’t waste your time on him.”_ _ _ _

____Zayn glances at him, exhaling. “A year ago, you would’ve been the first to jump to his defense.”_ _ _ _

____Louis laughs bitterly. “People change. Harry wants nothing to do with me anymore, and who am I to blame him? I’m not worth staying for, obviously.”_ _ _ _

____“Louis…” Zayn turns all the way around, looking at him worriedly. “Don’t say that, you know that’s not true…”_ _ _ _

____“Harry doesn’t think so.” Louis shakes his head, joining Zayn at the railing. “Gimme one.”_ _ _ _

____“Lou…”_ _ _ _

____“Give me a cigarette, Zayn,” Louis says tiredly. “I don’t want to argue with you, and I’m not in the mood to discuss Harry.”_ _ _ _

____…_ _ _ _

____Smoking takes away the hunger pains._ _ _ _

____He realizes that, after he finishes smoking the cigarette Zayn gave him. His appetite is completely diminished – the goddamn hunger pains are nonexistent. The newfound realization elates him – he doesn’t have to lie and pretend he isn’t hungry anymore – he won’t be. The only problem would be concerts…he needs to eat something before those, otherwise he’ll risk passing out on stage, and that would _definitely_ make the boys more than suspicious. _ _ _ _

____He needs to lose weight anyway, so starving should do it. He doesn’t know why the problems with his weight didn’t strike him earlier. He’s always had a tummy, thick thighs, and a large arse. He hates being called out on his arse – it is bigger than the other boys’, so people notice it more, and he _hates_ that._ _ _ _

____He doesn’t know why – despite all of this – he yearns for Harry. He should hate him. He should despise him. It’s Harry’s fault he’s like this. If Harry hadn’t abandoned him, he wouldn’t have started scouring and scrutinizing himself like he’s a piece of meat. In a way, he feels he should be grateful to Harry, for helping him realize how disgusting he is. It’ll always be Harry’s fault that he’s so fucked up, no matter what._ _ _ _

____They say that friends who leave you weren’t your real friends to begin with. That is not true in this case. If they weren’t so famous, he’d probably still have Harry. The younger boy would’ve had no good reason. Then again, he probably could’ve dug up a reason. Louis really doesn’t know why the other boys still like him. Harry obviously figured out that he’s a piece of shit, he’s trash, he means nothing to _anyone_. But maybe, just maybe…if they weren’t famous, things would be different. _ _ _ _

____But they _are_ famous, Harry _is_ gone, and Louis just has to deal with it. _ _ _ _

____…_ _ _ _

____Louis wants to forget._ _ _ _

____He wants to forget all of this ever happened – all the stress, the agony, the onslaught – fuck it all. He wants to pretend it doesn’t exist, even if it’s just for one damn night. He just wants to live his life without the reminders of how horrible and how fucked up he is._ _ _ _

____He wants to be happy._ _ _ _

____But, what the hell even _is_ happiness?_ _ _ _

____He finds his answer in a bottle._ _ _ _

____A bottle of vodka._ _ _ _

____Half the bottle and he’s drunk out of his goddamn mind, stumbling all over the place, a strange warmth coursing through him. He feels fuzzy, light, airy…not at all there. He doesn’t even remember what he’s been so upset about, only that none of it probably matters. The feeling of alcohol intoxication is strong, and he feels like he’s floating._ _ _ _

____He never wants this to end._ _ _ _

____It’s like nothing even matters – the fight with Harry, the hate – none of it is deemed important enough for him to remember in his alcohol-ridden state._ _ _ _

____He’s so drunk and he can barely remember the hours that follow. He’s too out of it to know (or care), and if he can’t remember, it probably wasn’t important in the first place. He can barely remember to keep his sleeves down and make sure they don’t ride up. It’s a miracle that he remembers to even do that, let alone anything else._ _ _ _

____Vodka has so many calories and he’s probably setting himself back on all the progress he’s made and all the weight he’s lost, but he doesn’t take that into consideration. He just wants to forget, he wants to fall asleep and never wake up._ _ _ _

____He’s so broken and he just doesn’t want to exist anymore, he doesn’t want to breathe anymore._ _ _ _

____…_ _ _ _

____Apparently he fucked up._ _ _ _

____He went around spurting absolute nonsense while intoxicated, and now Twitter’s blowing up with rumors of Larry Stylinson being together, or Larry Stylinson feuding and never speaking to each other again._ _ _ _

____Louis doesn’t know which one is worse._ _ _ _

____Either way, Harry is _so_ angry at him, and goddamn, he has the right to be. He yelled for god knows how long, and Louis took it, he took it through tear-filled eyes whilst his head pounded viciously in his skull. Damn hangover. _ _ _ _

____“Here, Lou. This’ll help your headache.”_ _ _ _

____He looks blearily up at Zayn, accepting the pills from the other lad. Once downing them, he lets his head flop back down, not wanting Zayn to see him cry._ _ _ _

____“Hey,” Zayn murmurs, sitting down beside him. “Hey, it’s alright.”_ _ _ _

____“If you define ‘alright’ as Harry hating me and the fans thinking I’m some crazy drunken lunatic, then sure.” Louis sighs and lifts his head again. “I’m such an idiot.”_ _ _ _

____“Don’t say that,” Zayn chides. “You made a mistake. Harry will get over it. It’s not like he hasn’t fucked up a goddamn lot as well. This will all blow over soon enough, I promise.”_ _ _ _

____Louis wants to confess._ _ _ _

____He wants to tell Zayn that it _won’t_ , because he’s obsessed with slashing his skin and he plays a new game every day – how long can he starve himself before he collapses. Nothing about this is okay and nothing will get better soon, but Louis is so stubborn and he doesn’t like asking for help._ _ _ _

____…_ _ _ _

____They say that there’s always a breaking point._ _ _ _

____The straw that breaks the camel’s back._ _ _ _

____Louis thinks he’s hit his breaking point._ _ _ _

____He never thought living, existing, would be so _hard_. It’s just _exhausting_. Getting out of bed in the morning requires so much effort, and Louis honestly doesn’t know how he’s managing to do it anymore. He doesn’t know how the depression hasn’t taken over completely. _ _ _ _

____Emptiness clouds everything, and the feeling of suffocation is so _strong._ _ _ _ _

____He feels like he’s struggling in quicksand or running a marathon, his chest hurts with how hard he’s trying to continue on, but he just _can’t_. He can’t do it anymore. He’s on his knees, panting, gasping for air, trying to keep his head above water. He can’t try anymore, he’s so _done_._ _ _ _

____It hurts._ _ _ _

____He thought that numbness was painful, but at this point, he’d embrace numbness with open arms. Feeling all his emotions hurts so much _worse_. He can’t breathe from the weight crushing down on him, like ten thousand pounds on his back. He feels like he’s sweating from the effort and just how _painful_ and _difficult_ it is to carry that weight. _ _ _ _

____He’s so _broken,_ and it’s just so hard._ _ _ _

____He’s trying his best, but it’s just so painful, and he needs to go. He needs to free himself, and yes, he’s being fucking selfish, but it all hurts and he wants the pain to go away. He wants the pain of Harry leaving, the hate, he wants it gone, he wants to go _away.__ _ _ _

____He doesn’t want to wake up._ _ _ _

____He doesn’t want to be criticized and told there’s no reason to want to die in his situation, because there _is._ No one knows how bad it hurts, and no one has the right to criticize him until they do. _ _ _ _

____Louis doesn’t know why he’s waited this long – maybe the delusional thought that things would somehow get better. Time only makes things worse, and he’s just so scared of what’s to come. May as well just end it now before things start to get even worse than before._ _ _ _

____Harry doesn’t care and Liam and Niall and Zayn will get over it._ _ _ _

____He’s so selfish for even _thinking_ about this, but he can’t help it. He can’t help how fucking weak he is – he needs to do this for _him_. He can’t keep living the lie he’s used to living – the fans know nothing, and the boys know even less. He can’t live like this – everything about his life is a lie, and he hates it. The life of fame is fucking cruel – it doesn’t have to be this way, but it is, and it fucking _sucks.__ _ _ _

____He doesn’t even know where to cut – where the cut that ends it all will be. His wrists are both covered, his thighs are a roadmap of self-inflicted bruises and cuts, going almost as far up to his hips and stomach._ _ _ _

____He’s more likely to hit a vein if he cuts his wrist – though splitting healing scars will probably make the agony ten times worse. Wait a second – why does he care how much it hurts? Agony is good. Pain is all he deserves, the more it hurts, the better. He wants to hurt, he wants to cry, and he wants to die._ _ _ _

____He stands, wobbling, dizzy. The room is spinning and he’s confusing because he hasn’t even taken anything yet. He’s so disoriented, and he has no idea why. Stumbling, he manages to make his way over to the dresser, where his phone is sitting._ _ _ _

____The boys deserve a goodbye._ _ _ _

____He sends three separate texts, all chock full of “I love yous” and “I’m sorrys”. They’re genuine – he has no reason not to feel remorse about leaving them. They care about him – they haven’t abandoned him like Harry has. They’ve always been loyal – and he’ll always regret doing this, if only because he’s going to cause them so much pain and they don’t deserve to hurt over him. He’s not worth that much._ _ _ _

____Just as he’s about to shut his phone off for the final time, he realizes that he forgot about Eleanor. And his fucking mum._ _ _ _

____He’s such a horrid boyfriend, going to kill himself without even saying goodbye to the girl that’s loved him unconditionally throughout. She deserves more than a text. Not to mention his mum – he loves her more than anything. She’s been the one person who has accepted him for everything, and never been one to judge or criticize._ _ _ _

____As much as Harry’s hurt him – he’s still of more value to Louis than Eleanor, and god, Louis hates that, but it’s so true. Harry deserves a letter, but maybe…he can send El a voice message, and tell her exactly how sorry he is. He’s also recording for his mum – he thinks she’d prefer his voice, to a letter._ _ _ _

____The recordings are messy and all over the place; he’s crying while he records and he’s sure his voice sounds so bad, but he has no energy to rerecord._ _ _ _

____He sends the recordings to them, and until turns his phone off. After a moment’s pause, he stands on shaky legs and hurls the phone into the wall, relaxing as he hears it shatter. He doesn’t want anyone to try and stop him._ _ _ _

____The next fifteen minutes are spent in writing a note to Harry – he’s not going to pour his heart to the younger lad, but Harry deserves some sort of explanation, in the least._ _ _ _

____It’s just hard. He’s shaking, visibly trembling, and it takes so much energy and effort to form coherent thoughts. His mind is a mess and he finds it funny, how synonymous that is to his life._ _ _ _

____Once he finishes writing, it’s all over._ _ _ _

____It’s just a matter of swallowing the pills and slitting his wrist and _dying_._ _ _ _

____And that part, Louis has no problem with._ _ _ _

____He finds another bottle of vodka and uses the alcohol to wash down an entire bottle of sleeping pills. And then, he brings the blade over his wrist and slices straight down, from the end of his palm to almost the crook of his elbow._ _ _ _

____Pain._ _ _ _

____Dizziness._ _ _ _

_____Agony._ _ _ _ _

____If this is what death feels like, Louis isn’t so sure he wants it. His mind is so hazy and he’s so _sleepy_ , but the cut in his arm hurts so _badly_ , and he just wants to go unconscious. He’s dying, and he knows that for sure. The rest of the vodka is spilled on the floor next to him, mixing with the relentless flow of blood gushing from his wrist, and he knows this is the end. _ _ _ _

____The darkness comes a moment later._ _ _ _

____…_ _ _ _

____“Go check on Louis!”_ _ _ _

____Zayn wastes no time with a greeting, and Harry rolls his eyes._ _ _ _

____“I’m sure he’s fine.”_ _ _ _

____“He is _not_ fine!” Zayn cries. “He sent me, Niall, and Liam these cryptic-ass goodbye messages! There’s something wrong, and you live closest to him! You’ll get there way before us!”_ _ _ _

____“Zayn, calm down.” Harry stands, keeping the phone pressed to his ear with his shoulder. “I’m sure Louis is fine, he’s probably just shitfaced drunk again.”_ _ _ _

____“You’re such a fucking dick,” Zayn growls. “If you actually pulled your head out of your arse and _at him, you’d know how badly he’s hurting! I’ve tried to help him, but he won’t fucking listen to me. He needs _you,_ and what the hell did you do? You kicked him when he was down and all you do anymore is _yell_ at him. Whatever he’s done, it’s _your_ fault! Now go the fuck over to his flat and make sure he’s not _dead_!”__ _ _ _

_____Zayn hangs up with a click and Harry freezes where he is, reflecting._ _ _ _ _

_____Zayn is _right_. _ _ _ _ _

_____All he’s done is yell at Louis, and god, the older boy’s been looking _awful_ recently. Zayn’s absolutely fucking right, and Harry’s terrified. His stomach and his chest are aching…what the fuck has he _done_?_ _ _ _ _

_____Slipping his feet into his boots, he grabs his car keys and runs out of his flat. He needs to get to Louis…before it’s too late._ _ _ _ _

_____…_ _ _ _ _

_____Louis’ flat smells of booze._ _ _ _ _

_____The furniture is broken; his place is a right mess. Everything looks shattered, and Harry is just so scared. What the _fuck_ is going on?_ _ _ _ _

_____“Lou?” He goes up to Louis’ bedroom, knocking on the closed door. “Lou, you in there?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Almost two minutes pass, before Harry realizes that he isn’t going to get a response. He tries the doorknob, and to his surprise, the door isn’t locked. It swings open in front of him, and god, Harry wishes for a moment that it hadn’t._ _ _ _ _

_____The next thing he knows, he’s on his knees next to Louis’ body, tears running down his cheeks as he stares at his best friend’s limp form. Louis’ left arm is gushing blood, and he’s clutching a piece of paper in his right. There’s an empty vodka bottle lying a few feet away, and the blood and alcohol are mixing together, making Harry feel sick to his stomach. He wants to scream, wants to shake Louis until he wakes, but he knows that the only thing he can do is call an ambulance. He does so, placing the call shakily and urging them to hurry up._ _ _ _ _

_____“Lou…” He chokes out a sob, squeezing his eyes shut. “This is all my fault…”_ _ _ _ _

_____He rips his shirt off and winds it around Louis’ arm, trying to staunch the heavy blood flow. He’s crying and his chest hurts so bad and this is all his fault. Louis tried to kill himself, because of Harry. He pries the note from Louis hand, and the mere action brings on another flood of tears._ _ _ _ _

_____“I’m s-so s-sorry…”_ _ _ _ _

_____He doesn’t know how long he’s crying, but the ambulance arrives eventually, and paramedics storm the room. They’re panicking and so is he because Louis _isn’t breathing_. His pulse is faint and he’s not _breathing_._ _ _ _ _

_____Harry watches, distraught, as the medics pull Louis from his arms and mumble something about coding and paddles._ _ _ _ _

_____“C-Can I c-come…?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Sorry mate, no room. You can follow us, but we need to get your friend to the hospital before it’s too late.”_ _ _ _ _

_____And then they’re loading him onto a board and carrying him out to the ambulance._ _ _ _ _

_____And Harry just collapses to the ground and sobs, he cries for Louis, even though he knows that Louis is dying in that ambulance, and it is all his fault._ _ _ _ _

_____…_ _ _ _ _

______Harry,_ _ _ _ _ _

______I’m not gonna say all that cliché mushy bullshit. I don’t have the energy to write it, and I doubt you want to read it. I’ll just cut to the chase. You broke me, Harry. You left me and I don’t even know why. I dunno what I did wrong, but it must’ve been something bad, to make you leave. I’m sorry for fucking up. I’m sorry I wasn’t the friend you wanted me to be. I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough. I just needed you, but I get that you didn’t want anything to do with me. Now you won’t have to deal with me. I’m sorry._ _ _ _ _ _

______Louis_ _ _ _ _ _

_____The note brings on more waterworks. Harry’s drowning in guilt and choking on how much hatred he feels for himself. _He_ did this. He singlehandedly _broke_ Louis, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forgive himself for it. _ _ _ _ _

_____He caused Louis so much pain…so much pain, that the older lad felt that ending his life was the only way out. He can’t even breathe with how much self-hatred is weighing down on him, choking him, chaining him, making him feel _so_ awful. He’s sure this is the worst day of his life – and that he has _never_ felt this horrible about himself._ _ _ _ _

_____Louis is alive, and Harry is thanking all that is good in the world for it. He lost about a little over a third of the blood in his body, so he’s extremely weak and still unconscious. They had to pump his stomach to get all the pills out of his system. They’re giving him blood, and he should pull through fine, but…Harry is just living in guilt hell, because _he_ put Louis through all of that. _ _ _ _ _

_____He doesn’t even deserve to breathe anymore._ _ _ _ _

_____“Harry?”_ _ _ _ _

_____He looks up. The boys don’t hate him for this – well, correction, Zayn _does_ hate him, and he deserves it – but the other boys don’t hate him, and for that, he’s grateful._ _ _ _ _

_____“El’s gonna play us Lou’s voice message, if you wanted a listen?” Niall says hoarsely, rubbing a hand over his red face._ _ _ _ _

_____Harry nods silently, following Niall over to where Liam, Zayn, and Eleanor are sitting. As soon as he approaches, Zayn looks away, getting up and going over to sit on Eleanor’s other side. Harry winces at that action – even though he deserves it, it still hurts._ _ _ _ _

_____Eleanor presses play with a shaking finger, and then Louis’ voice becomes the only sound in the room._ _ _ _ _

______“H-Hi, El…I sent the other boys texts, except Harry, but I wanted yours to be special, so…I doubt this is gonna be special at all but you get my voice. I dunno if that’s good or bad but here it is. Um, I love you El. I love you so much and I’m so sorry. Everything hurts so bad and I need to do this. I hate being selfish, I’m so sorry. I love you. I’m in love with you, and that’s how I’ll die. In love with you. I’m so sorry it had to end like this…bye baby…”_ _ _ _ _ _

_____Harry closes his eyes and chokes out a sob._ _ _ _ _

_____…_ _ _ _ _

_____When they get to see Louis, Harry’s the first one to enter his room…though he wishes he could have been the last._ _ _ _ _

_____Louis honestly looks dead, and the mere sight has nausea swirling in Harry’s stomach. He whirls around, high-tailing it out of the room and running straight for the loo. Pushing his way into an empty stall, he kneels down in front of the toilet, just in time for his stomach’s contents to make his way out into the bowl._ _ _ _ _

_____He feels another body drop next to him, and a hand on his back, but he doesn’t have time to figure out who it is, before he throws up again._ _ _ _ _

_____Finally, the fit ceases, and he sits back, closing his eyes weakly._ _ _ _ _

_____“Here.” Niall wipes a wet paper towel across his sweaty forehead, and Harry relaxes at the touch. “I know you’re a mess right now, but you gotta be strong for Louis.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“It’s my fault he’s in that bed…”_ _ _ _ _

_____Niall sighs. “You fucked up. You fucked up big time, I won’t deny it. But Lou was the one to do this, it’s not your fault. You may’ve been the reason why, but you didn’t slice his wrist open and shove a bottle of pills down his throat.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I hurt him enough that he felt like suicide was the only answer…”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Are you helping him, by beating yourself up like this?” Niall replies. “No, no you aren’t. He wouldn’t want you to do this. The only thing you can do for him right now is be there. You can be there when he wakes up, and tell him how goddamn sorry you are.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“What if that’s not enough?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“It has to be, H. It has to be.”_ _ _ _ _

_____…_ _ _ _ _

_____The sound of beeping tells him that he’s not dead._ _ _ _ _

_____Fucking _hell.that_ properly. He’s alive because someone found him, and fuck, he’d just like to _kill_ whoever did find him. He doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t want to be alive, the entire point of slitting his wrists and overdosing was to die._ _ _ _ _

_____He blinks – his eyelids feel like they weigh a thousand pounds, as he finally opens his eyes. Everything’s blurry, and he feels so groggy, disoriented and weak._ _ _ _ _

_____“Oh my god, Lou!”_ _ _ _ _

_____That’s Zayn’s voice – and Louis is glad it isn’t Harry. He doesn’t have the energy to justify himself to the curly-haired lad anymore. He’s tired. He’s just tired. He wants to give up._ _ _ _ _

_____“H-Hi…” His voice is hoarse and talking sends fire down his throat. He lifts his hand to press to the appendage, but his eyes widen as he takes in the bandages and gauze covering his entire forearm. There’s an IV and another tube in his arm, and he glances to the side, seeing the monitors and tubes and everything._ _ _ _ _

_____“Don’t strain yourself.” Zayn looks wrecked, and god, this is why Louis had second thoughts. He wishes he was dead, so he wouldn’t have to see his brothers in this much pain. Zayn’s eyes are bloodshot, he’s pale, and the dark bags under his eyes are so damn prominent. He looks _awful_._ _ _ _ _

_____Zayn squeezes his other hand, and Louis squeezes back, forcing a small smile onto his face._ _ _ _ _

_____“How…how long…?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Three days, Lou,” Zayn whispers. “You were out for _three days._ You scared the living _shit_ out of us.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“S-Sorry…” Louis didn’t mean for any of this. He wanted to die, to avoid all of this._ _ _ _ _

_____“Don’t apologize.” Zayn’s voice is firmer, but it still cracks in multiple places, and Louis ahs _never_ felt so _guilty._ “ _I’m_ sorry I didn’t see how bad this was, until I got the call…I’m so sorry, Louis…”_ _ _ _ _

_____“S’not your fault,” Louis mumbles in reply. “Hid it…didn’t want you to know…”_ _ _ _ _

_____Zayn gives him a watery smile, leaning down to kiss his forehead and brush the hair from his eyes. “Don’t think about it now, just focus on getting better. You’re gonna be okay Lou, I promise.”_ _ _ _ _

_____…_ _ _ _ _

_____The next time Louis wakes, his mum is sitting beside his bed._ _ _ _ _

_____“Hi, sweetheart.” She leans over and kisses his forehead. “How are you feeling?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“M-Mum…” Louis whispers. “M’sorry…” He hates that he put her through this, she didn’t deserve this. It’s not fair; if there was a way to commit suicide without causing his loved ones so much pain, he’d do it in a second._ _ _ _ _

_____“You have nothing to be sorry for, baby.” He feels so guilty, seeing how shattered she looks, all because of _him.__ _ _ _ _

_____“Everything just…hurt…” Louis wants to tell her, he wants to tell her everything. She’s the only person he can talk to and not have judge him. She’s his mum, she’ll love him no matter what._ _ _ _ _

_____“Listen to me, sweetheart.” He looks up at her blearily. “We’re going to get you help, and you’re going to be okay. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here…I had no idea you were so badly depressed, you’d started hurting yourself, and the eating disorder…”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I don’t…don’t have an eating disorder…” Louis is truly shocked by those words. Eating disorders afflict _thin_ people, he’s not thin, he’s _fat_. He has so much weight to lose._ _ _ _ _

_____“Yes you do, my love.” She sighs and brushes his fringe out of his eyes. “I’ve talked to Zayn…he said you haven’t been eating, and everything matches up, sweetheart. You’re starving yourself, that’s an eating disorder.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I just…I wanted to lose some weight…I didn’t want to have a tummy…” Louis buries his head in his hands as he feels his tears start. A pair of arms wrap around him and pull him close, and he chokes out a heaving sob._ _ _ _ _

_____“You don’t have a tummy, baby. You were perfectly fine before, you just didn’t see it.” His mum’s voice is soothing, as she rubs his back. “Anorexia has to do with the mind. What you saw in the mirror could not be further from the truth. It was in your head, you had no weight to lose. And now, baby, you’re so thin, it’s scaring me…”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I’m s-s-sorry, mummy…” Louis chokes out._ _ _ _ _

_____“You have nothing to apologize for, my love. You’re going to be okay, I promise. We’re going to help you, you’re going to be okay.”_ _ _ _ _

_____…_ _ _ _ _

_____His mum is planning on staying with him for a while, and if he’s honest, he really appreciates it. He misses her, when she’s not with him, and getting to see her every day for a few weeks will make a lot of this much easier to handle._ _ _ _ _

_____The girls don’t know that he tried to kill himself, just that he’s sick and mum needs to be with him while he recovers. He likes it better that way – it’s not fair for them to have to give themselves panic attacks worrying about him. He doesn’t deserve that._ _ _ _ _

_____He had talks with Niall and Liam, as the days in the hospital came to a close. It was decided that he’d go to therapy, and that the tour would be put on hold for a bit, until he recovers a little more. The fans understood – he didn’t tell them everything, but just enough to placate them and have multiple love hashtags trend, telling him how much they love him and to get better._ _ _ _ _

_____The only person missing from all of this is Harry. Harry’s been nonexistent, but Louis knows he’s been there. He can tell that Harry comes in while he’s asleep and cries and tells him how sorry he is. However, the curly-haired lad doesn’t have the balls to face him while he’s awake, and Louis is beyond frustrated with that. He doesn’t even know if he wants to forgive Harry._ _ _ _ _

_____“You ready to go, Lou?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Louis pulls a beanie over his messy hair and nods. Zayn’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He comes into the room, grabbing Louis’ bag for him, and hefting it over his shoulder._ _ _ _ _

_____“Let’s go then, you’re officially allowed to leave this shithole.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“That’s a relief.” Louis follows Zayn out of the hospital, and toward the car. “I thought I’d go crazy for another moment in there.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“It’s been lonely without you,” Zayn tells him, as he shoves Louis’ bag in the backseat of his car. “We’ve all been hanging out at Liam’s.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“What about Harry?” Louis slides into the passenger’s seat and glances over at Zayn. “How’s he doing? He hasn’t come to see me very much…”_ _ _ _ _

_____“He’s an absolute wreck, Lou.” Zayn rubs a hand over his face, before he starts to back out of the parking lot. “He gets drunk a lot, and then he cries about how sorry he is and how much he misses you. Y’know, I was pretty pissed at him when all of this happened, but I kinda feel sorry for the lad. He’s definitely living in guilt hell.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Louis isn’t sure how to answer that. He doesn’t _hate_ Harry, and he’s not even sure he’s mad at the younger lad, but Harry has definitely hurt him, and he’s not sure he can be friends with him again. He doesn’t know whether Harry will turn around and do something like this again, and the fear is what’s holding him back. He wants to trust Harry, he really does, but he’s not sure whether he can. He’s just…scared. He hates being scared of someone who used to be his best mate, but he is._ _ _ _ _

_____“Oh yeah, and…” Zayn continues. “He’s been getting a lot of shit on Twitter…the fans have kinda figured out that it was him who made all the shitty ass comments…they’re not leaving him alone.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Shit…I didn’t mean for that…” Louis sighs. “I don’t hate him, I’m not even angry at him. I miss him, actually…I just…don’t know whether I can trust him anymore.” He glances down at his bandaged wrist. “He…I just…I don’t know, Z…”_ _ _ _ _

_____“It’s okay not to know,” Zayn replies. “Harry isn’t gonna be there when we get back. He went to Cheshire for a couple days, he needed his mum and Gemma and Robin.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I don’t know whether that’s a relief or a curse, at this point…”_ _ _ _ _

_____“He just needs time, Lou. At least going to see his mum is better than getting drunk every night and crying about how much he loves you and needs you and misses you.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Louis nods. “How’s El…? She hasn’t really come by, either…”_ _ _ _ _

_____“She’s got exams right now,” Zayn replies. “And she’s really scared to see you in this state…she was a right wreck, Lou. You scared the living shit out of all of us. And since she got a voice message, it was even worse.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I know…” Louis sighs. “I just…I don’t know anymore.”_ _ _ _ _

_____…_ _ _ _ _

_____Zayn takes him straight to Liam’s flat, and as soon as Louis enters, he’s attacked._ _ _ _ _

_____Liam and Niall both rush up to them, firing questions at Louis and both trying to hug him at the same time. Louis rolls his eyes and hugs Liam quickly, and then moves on to Niall._ _ _ _ _

_____“M’right here, you don’t need to act like animals, jesus.” Louis laughs._ _ _ _ _

_____“You okay? Need anything?” Liam asks worriedly, looking him up and down. “Your mum’s making dinner, she said she’d bring it over when she’s done.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Louis sighs. This is what he was afraid of. They’re treating him like he’s fragile and needs to be taken care of, and he _hates_ it. He wants them to treat him like normal, like he didn’t just try to off himself. There’s no need for anyone to have to walk on eggshells around him, he’s not going to break if someone treats him like a normal human being and not a ticking time bomb. _ _ _ _ _

_____“Lads,” Louis says. “Listen, because I’m only gonna say this once. I don’t want you to try me like I’m gonna break. I’m still Louis, I’m still the same person, and I want you to treat me that way. If I wanted to be babied, I would’ve had Zayn drop me off at my own flat, because my mum’s there.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“We worry.” Liam looks him in the eye. “We worry so much, and we had no idea this was happening until Zayn was calling me in tears and begging me to pick up Niall and get to the hospital. We worry because the doctors said that if they’d been five minutes later, you’d be in a fucking _morgue_ right now! If Harry hadn’t gotten-”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Wait…” Louis stares at him. “ _Harry_ found me?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I told him to go check on you, after I got your text,” Zayn speaks up. “He lives closest. He said he found you in a pool of your own blood, and that you weren’t breathing when the paramedics got there…”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Oh my god…” Louis realizes why Harry’s been crying so much, why he’s been so shaky and made sure to come when he thinks Louis is asleep. “I had no idea…fucking hell, is he okay?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“He went home.” Niall stares at the ground. “Last night, he almost passed out because of how much he drank. And he’s always going on about how sorry he is and how much he misses you, but he doesn’t want to face you because he doesn’t want to see you this broken, knowing it’s _his_ fault. We called Anne, and she talked to him, and said he should come back for a few days. He should be back by Tuesday.”_ _ _ _ _

_____It’s Friday. Louis sighs and nods. “Anything else? I’m…I’m worried…”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You should be worrying about yourself, not him,” Liam says. “You’re the one trying to recover from depression, self-harm, and a damn eating disorder.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“He hurt me…” Louis whispers. “But he’ll always come first on the list of people I worry about. He’s first, before even myself or mum, dad, and my sisters.”_ _ _ _ _

_____…_ _ _ _ _

_____Harry’s back late Monday night, and he thinks he feels a little better._ _ _ _ _

_____He told his mum everything, and she did admit there were certain things he was wrong about, but he did not shove pills down Louis’ throat and slice his wrist open, as Niall said, so it isn’t his fault._ _ _ _ _

_____The next morning, he’s ready to talk to Louis._ _ _ _ _

_____He wants his best mate back, that’s really all he wants. He knows now how badly he treated Louis, and he knows he’s never going to do that again. He just wants Louis to trust him, and truth be told, it’ll take a while, but he doesn’t mind. Just having Louis forgive him will be enough for him._ _ _ _ _

_____According to Niall, all four of them are at Liam’s, so that’s where he’s headed. He dropped his things off at his place, and now he’s going to see Louis for the first time since the older lad got out of the hospital._ _ _ _ _

_____He rings Liam’s doorbell, but he’s not waiting long. The door is flung open in a matter of seconds, and then he’s yanked into a hug._ _ _ _ _

_____“Hi, Nialler.” Harry laughs, ruffling Niall’s hair and hugging the blond._ _ _ _ _

_____“You look better,” Niall observes, as he pulls back._ _ _ _ _

_____“I feel better. I was hoping to talk to Louis…is he here?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Yeah.” Niall nods. “He’s been doing a lot better as well, but he’s wanted to talk to you as well…”_ _ _ _ _

_____Niall leads him further into the flat, and motions to where Louis and Liam are playing FIFA. Zayn’s draped on one of the other sofas, a hat over his face as he sleeps._ _ _ _ _

_____“Harry’s here.”_ _ _ _ _

_____All movement in the room seems to stop, at Niall’s announcement. Liam pauses the game, just as Louis drops his controller and whirls around to meet Harry’s eyes._ _ _ _ _

_____He looks considerably better, but he still looks very thin – gaunt, almost, and the stark white bandages around his forearms are a bitter reminder of the recent events._ _ _ _ _

_____“Hi, Lou,” Harry whispers. “Can we…Can we talk…?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Louis nods, still not saying anything as he gets up and comes over. They stand beside each other awkwardly, and Harry’s already wondering whether this is a bad idea._ _ _ _ _

_____“You can go into my room,” Liam offers._ _ _ _ _

_____Louis has already started for the indicated room, and Harry follows, trying to keep himself from freaking out. He doesn’t know how this is going to go – how Louis is going to react, he just hopes it all goes well._ _ _ _ _

_____“So…”_ _ _ _ _

_____Louis sits down on Liam’s bed and looks at him. “I have some things to say, but I’ll let you talk first.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Harry takes a seat beside him, and his heart clenches when he notices Louis’ flinch. “I just wanna start off by saying…I am _so_ sorry, for everything, Lou. I had no idea I was being such an arse, and I can’t even express how sorry I am. You didn’t deserve all the shit I gave you, you didn’t deserve any of it.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I could take what you said,” Louis says quietly. “I know I fuck up a lot, and I could take the scolding and the yelling, that was alright. It hurt, but I could tolerate it. What hurt the most was that you _left_ … You left me, you stopped talking to me, stopped interacting with me at shows, stopped everything. You even started leaving the room when I was there, and it hurt, it hurt so bad. I needed you and I missed you and you weren’t there…and I want to know why. What did I fuck up, for you to leave me?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Louis…” Harry shakes his head vigorously. “That had nothing to do with you. There have always been rumors about Larry Stylinson, and this time, it’s started to get out of hand. I know how badly that shit hurts you and El, and so I thought that the less time we spend with each other behind closed doors, the more likely we are to act like that in public. I didn’t want the rumors to get even worse – I know how bad they get…” He trails off. “And then…you started getting bad…I noticed it, how withdrawn you were becoming, how reclusive and shy…I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t think you wanted the attention. You’ve never liked having people worry about you, and I thought you’d come to me, if you really were having it bad.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You yelled at me…” Louis begins to pick at his bandages, not looking up. “And you kept getting mad, and I kept fucking up. And that night I got so drunk…I was so close to killing myself _then_ , and I just wanted to forget. The alcohol helped me forget why I was so stressed and broken and miserable, even if just for a night. But then you screamed at me the next morning…”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I’m so sorry, Lou…” Harry replies. “I don’t have an excuse, there’s no way I can justify that. I was a dick, and I know it. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am…you don’t have to forgive me. I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me again.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You’re a fucking idiot, Harry.” Louis looks up at him finally, meeting his gaze. “No matter how much you hurt me, I _need_ you. I can’t live without you. That’s why I was so broken in the first place…I didn’t think I was good enough for you…I thought that if I was thinner, you’d like me. Or if I wasn’t so loud and crazy… No matter what, I’ll always need you. And I do forgive you…it’ll take me a while to trust you again, but I do forgive you…”_ _ _ _ _

_____Warmth swells in Harry’s chest. He can feel himself relaxing, relief flooding his body, flowing through his veins like blood. Louis’ forgiveness is enough for him._ _ _ _ _

_____He glances shyly at Louis and opens his arms, hoping he’ll be allowed a hug, otherwise he’ll just look like a right idiot. He doesn’t have to worry, because Louis melts into his arms in the next moment, hugging him tightly. He hugs back, burying his face in Louis’ shoulder, and wincing at how bony and thin the boy really is._ _ _ _ _

_____“You’ll always be better than good enough for me,” he tells Louis tearfully. “Never feel like you have to change yourself, like you have to go to these drastic measures to be worthy. You’re perfect, just the way you are.”_ _ _ _ _

_____…_ _ _ _ _

_____After their talk, things start to look up. They’re back, and closer than ever. Harry turns into the most overprotective little shit ever, taking over duty as a mother hen, right after Louis’ own mum leaves. He checks Louis’ arms, hips, and thighs, morning and night, makes sure he eats three meals a day, and smothers him with as much love as humanely possible._ _ _ _ _

_____Harry calls it making up for lost time, but Louis calls it normal._ _ _ _ _

_____Of course, there are always bad days – the days Louis would rather jump off a bridge than get out of bed – the days he just wants to curl up in a corner and die – depression does that to you. Harry’s there for every single one of them, holding him through it, listening to him vent, and making sure he doesn’t hurt himself._ _ _ _ _

_____The tour is back on, after Louis’ had three months to recover. The fans are overly ecstatic to see them back, and the love Louis is smothered with is so damn staggering. He’s finally starting to remember what it feels like to be happy – things are finally starting to look up._ _ _ _ _

_____The future may hold more bad days, more suicidal days, but that won’t compare to the good days, the days where he feels like he’s on top of the world and can do anything._ _ _ _ _

_____He’s going to be okay._ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, I'd love to know what you thought!


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